


We're here to drink your beer and steal your rum

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clumsy allusions to canon, Drunkenness, Light make-outs and groping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros and Azaghâl sample some questionable rum. Or, as Polly put it on Tumblr: “cute drunk babies drinking weird stuff from mugs”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're here to drink your beer and steal your rum

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. After making a jokey allusion to this in Chapter 21, I couldn't help but write it.  
> 1\. Takes place Maedhros' freshman year of college.  
> 0\. Thanks to Polly for giving me the title :)

“What…what did you say this was, again?” Maedhros sat cross-legged on the floor of their dorm room and stared down at his mug, the fumes making his eyes water a little. 

“It’s my cousin’s home-fermented rum,” said Azaghâl, and hiccupped. “Better in…ummm, whatchcallits. Rum glasses. Glasses for rum. Of course. But all I got is…mugs. Stolen fresh from the dining hall.” 

“I think…I think I’ll pass,” said Maedhros carefully, putting the mug down on the floor next to him. He leaned back against the bed, missed, and slid to the floor. “Yes. Three glasses….was definitely enough.” 

“Not glashes,” said Azaghâl, gazing sternly at him. “Mugs. Accuracy ish…important, Red.” 

“Mmm,” said Maedhros. He raised a hand and pointed an accusatory finger at his roommate. “You’re… _drunk_.” 

“Ridiculoush,” said Azaghâl, indignantly, attempting to surge to his feet. Instead, he tipped over and sprawled on the floor next to Maedhros. “Well. That was jusht –  _just –_  bad timing.” 

“I bet,” said Maedhros, and laughed. 

“You’re laughing!” exclaimed Azaghâl, amazed. “I shom- _some_ times forget you  _can_  laugh.” 

“I can laugh,” said Maedhros, stopping laughing at once, and frowning. “I can be…very light-hearted.”

“Never seen it,” said Azaghâl decidedly. “In fact, Red, you are always so  _serious_  that I thought you didn’t like me.” 

“What?” Maedhros tried to prop himself on his elbows, slipped, and settled for rolling over on his side. He tucked his hand under his head and stared at Azaghâl in consternation. “I like you  _lots_ , Az.” 

“Really?” Azaghâl looked surprised. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“Because.” Maedhros frowned again. “I was worried. I’ve never….been alone somewhere before. I’ve always had someone I knew around. Even if it wasn’t a friend, I always had my brothers. And now, for the first time, I’m somewhere without them.” 

“Aren’t you relieved?” Azaghâl squinted at Maedhros. “Seven kids is…WAY too many. Extravagant.” 

“No, it was great,” said Maedhros, earnestly. “Because. It gave me purpose, you know? Even when I had…no idea what I was doing, or what I wanted, I knew  _that_. I was their older brother. No matter what else happened, I had to be there for them. No matter what, I mattered to  _them_. I could…fuck up anything else, but I would never fuck up being their brother. But now…” He broke off, and Azaghâl patted his hand clumsily. 

“…I’ve never heard you swear before.” 

“Oh,” said Maedhros vaguely. “Excuse my language.” 

“Oh,  _Red_.” Azaghâl sighed in fond exasperation. 

“Anyway. It was kinda…scary, coming here. And I was worried about my roommate, because I’ve had the same roommate my whole life, Makalaurë, and he knows me better ‘n anyone, and what if…what if whoever I lived with thought I was terrible? Or if they were terrible? But,” Maedhros smiled, suddenly, and his face lit up, “it was you. And you were easy-going, and didn’t make me uncomfortable, or force me to talk, and…I dunno. I’m glad it was you, and not anyone else.” 

Azaghâl was quiet. “That’s very – ” he began, but Maedhros interrupted him. 

“Until tonight,” he said, and finally managed to push himself upright. “NOW I am very unhappy you’re my roommate, because you gave me this  _terrible_  rum.” 

“How dare you?” said Azaghâl, trying to look deeply offended, and hiccupping again. “This is my cousin Telchar’s finest…Well, second-best…Okay, it’s her experimental batch.” 

“Poison,” said Maedhros, and glowered. 

“Awww, don’ be like that, Mae,” said Azaghâl. “Not after you just confessed your love for me.”

“I  _never_  said I lo-” 

“I love  _you_ , man.” 

“Really?” Maedhros looked touched. He reached down and hauled Azaghâl upright. “I love you, too.” 

“No,” said Azaghâl, burying his nose in his mug again. “I love  _you_.” 

“You already said that,” said Maedhros, looking around for his own mug and absently taking another swig when he located it. 

“Did I?” 

“Yesh. I mean, yes. Where’s – Where are my….feet?” Maedhros untangled his legs at last and stood, rather unsteadily. “Oh, dear.” He sank down on his bed, looking dizzy. 

“Careful,” mumbled Azaghâl. “Floor’s uneven.” 

“That’s…definitely it,” said Maedhros. 

Azaghâl pulled himself to his feet as well, and almost immediately collapsed onto Maedhros’ bed. “Oops.” 

“We should get maintenance to look at the floor,” murmured Maedhros, and lay back, sprawling against Azaghâl’s side. 

They waited. Maintenance didn’t arrive. 

“You know how musch I love you?” said Azaghâl, instead.

“How much?” mumbled Maedhros.

“I’m gonna…gonna get you a  _gift_.” 

“Really?” Maedhros blinked slowly. “What kind?” 

“I dunno.” Azaghâl frowned and waved a hand carelessly, bumping Maedhros’ shoulder. “Something big. Um. A  _house_. No. A truck. No. A dinosaur. A  _dragon_.” 

“A dragon? For me?” 

“Yes. Or maybe a hat.” 

“I don’t wear hats.” 

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

Time passed. 

“Maedhros?” 

“Yes, Azaghâl?” 

“I think I’m going to spend the night right here.” 

“Okay.” 

“Just until the…floor situation is sorted out.”

“Okay.”

“Do you snore?” 

“No.” 

“I do.” 

“I know.” 

“Right.” Azaghâl rolled over and found himself face to face with Maedhros.

Maedhros wrinkled his nose as Azaghâl’s beard brushed against his face. “You’re prickly.”

Azaghâl grunted. “Sorry.” 

Maedhros reached out and brushed his fingers over Azaghâl’s beard. “…it’s kind of nice, actually.” 

“Damn straight.” Azaghâl grinned. 

Maedhros ran his fingers through the thick auburn hair. “Does it get in the way?” 

“When eating soup, sometimes.” 

“What about when you kiss someone?”

“Haven’t had a complaint yet.” 

Maedhros looked pensive. “I’ve never kissed anyone with a beard.” 

“Want to?” 

- 

Some time later, Maedhros whispered, a little breathlessly, “We should…probably…” 

“Mmm,” said Azaghâl, distractedly, and then, “Yes.” 

Azaghâl pulled back, and Maedhros rather reluctantly slipped his hands out from under Azaghâl’s shirt. They both rolled onto their backs and lay still, staring at the ceiling. 

“We should go to bed,” murmured Maedhros.

“We’re in bed,” Azaghâl pointed out.

“We should go to sleep, then.”

“Mmk.” Azaghâl didn’t seem inclined to move, though, so Maedhros pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed over both of them, and since neither of them wanted to get up to turn the light off, closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow instead. And when he felt Azaghâl roll over and wrap an arm around his waist he just sighed and relaxed back into the sturdy body behind him.

-

They woke late in the morning, lights still on, sunlight streaming through the open window. Azaghâl was still pressed against Maedhros’ back, face tucked against Maedhros’ neck. 

At the same time they sat bolt upright and looked at each other. 

“Nothing happened,” said Maedhros, at the same time as Azaghâl said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”  They stared at each other a moment and then said, “Right.” 

Azaghâl slipped out of bed and stumbled to the window, wincing, to pull the shades. 

“Still,” said Maedhros, so quietly that Azaghâl almost didn’t hear him, “kissing someone with a beard isn’t half bad….”


End file.
